Back Again, Again

Well, as blogs often do, this one took an unintentional hiatus. Sorry about that; I really should contribute more regularly. But then there are many, many things I should do more often.

I was really inspired to break my silence because of a new wrinkle in my training: trail ("mountain") biking! Though our household goods shipment made it to Kigali a few weeks ago, putting my bike together has not been the first priority in furnishing our house. But a few days ago I was able to complete the task. I had ridden it in the driveway just to shake the dust off and see if it had been assembled properly (and because Zoe wanted to see me ride), but today I actually got out there on a real ride!

It should be noted that this is a new bike, (a Specialized Stumpjumper Comp 29)that I bought only a few days before our pack-out from New Orleans. Everything on it is stock, and I have Crank Brothers Candy pedals. It has 27 gears, a suspension fork, and hydraulic disc brakes. I rode it there a couple times, but there aren't any significant trails worth mentioning near our house, and so as a trail bike, it was still a virgin. Today, I can honestly say it's a trail bike.

I started from the street right in front of our driveway. Now, "street" and even "driveway" are terms that essentially mean the same thing here in Kigali, but in reality are most likely different from what you in the US would picture in your head. We actually need to put our 1996 Blazer into 4WD Low to make it up the driveway, and the street is not a lot better. It's quite flat and smooth hard-packed dirt at some places, and extremely rutted/washed out, scree and soft sand at others. No mud today, but some days quite deep and greasy. And some amazing inclines that get you winded just walking up the first several feet. Some even that are difficult to walk down. I guess you could say I live on a street that is perfect for really testing a mountain bike and its rider.

For the ride I stayed largely on lesser-used roads to avoid traffic as much as possible. But I live in the capital city of the most densely populated country in Africa. There is no such thing as an empty road. So I had to be very aware of cars, trucks, motorcycles, cyclists (not the kind I was riding; workhorses used for transporting amazingly large heavy things and even taxis), and zillions of pedestrians. And the roads varied from a short stretch of pavement to (very rough) cobblestones to my road and from dead flat to very steep. So I had singletrack and doubletrack, sand, rocks, hardpack, asphalt, cobbles, loose gravel, a little grass even.

And I couldn't have been happier. What a ride! I am so excited about this bike; it's exactly what I'd hoped for. In spite of the larger 29-inch frame, it's lighter than any trail bike I've been on (admittedly not many in the last several years). The suspension fork and overall design made little and big bumps alike nearly inconsequential. And the disc brakes are incredibly sticky. I could just leap down the bigger hills, despite the shifting terrain, and having to pick a very meandering line. And climbing up and up the same hills was a lot easier than I'd expected. Maybe it's because I've been running them for months that my heart and lungs could take it, but I just kept climbing up and up, though slowly. I really felt like a kid again, when I had a new (used) BMX bike out with my friends.

Until I wrecked.

As I was finishing the long dramatic descent after my turn-around point, the decline sort of flattened out a little, though the road didn't. I was still riding at maybe 10mph or more in the ruts and footpaths with occasional washout ruts crossing the path, and really thirsty. So I grabbed a bottle from my seat tube and drank a little swig. I was just starting to replace the bottle in the cage when I spotted a huge rut just ahead. I had my left hand on the bar and grabbed the front brake subtly (or so I thought). Next thing I know, I'm ass over elbows and very aware that I was about to hit the dirt. It was all over in a second, with me over the handlebars, the bike flying up and landing partially on me. And the locals from the neighborhood gasping. This turned to laughter after I got up and dusted myself off. I still didn't really see what was so damn funny, but checked myself over first, and then my bike. Damage Report: filthy, scraped-up left elbow and forearm; left ribs very very painful, but probably not broken; left knee also filthy and bleeding (not a lot); left shoulder sore, right thumb pinched and painful but there (full-finger glove now with a hole in it). For the bike, the clamps securing the brake levers to the handlebar a little scraped, and the left grip/bar-end scraped up good. My iPod and phone (both in back jersey pockets) and helmet without a scrape. Clothes filthy but not torn. So a little road rash (is it still called that on dirt?) and some bruised ribs. Nothing much to worry about other than several sore days. But all in all, a tidy little crash.

I guess this is what really allows me to say I have been riding trails. A simple thing like drinking from my water bottle was nothing on my triathlon bike. But when the terrain is always a little threatening (or interesting), it can be complicated. So this is a good little lesson for me. I'm always "on" when this bike is moving. No iPod. No eating while riding (until I'm a lot more proficient at least). Either use my hydration pack for drinking, use my left hand for the bottle, or stop to drink water. Use my cheaper sunglasses. And if this happens again soon, I may actually join so many of the other cyclists out there who shave their legs.